


Track Traitor

by lemonquails



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Dry Sex, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Painful Sex, Punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 06:37:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10848495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonquails/pseuds/lemonquails
Summary: Kamoshida makes one last effort to show his power over Ryuji before letting the track team fall to his disobedience.





	Track Traitor

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Leblanc Royale�](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10755486) by [Nhitori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nhitori/pseuds/Nhitori). 



> This fic should be able to stand on its own pretty easily, but is nonetheless intended to tie into Nhitori's "Leblanc Royale"

As far as Ryuji Sakamoto was concerned, the darkest day in the history of Shujin Academy was the day that Kamoshida stepped up as advisor for the track team. The previous coach had been amazing, but circumstance dictated the change. How kind of Kamoshida, to step up and ensure the track team would continue even after their advisor was fired. How kind indeed, to let the track team play second fiddle to his popular, award-winning volleyball team.

How kind of him to step in before any other teacher could, to undermine their efforts from the inside so that they would truly be forced to disband by the school board.

Ryuji considered the few weeks Kamoshida was in charge of the track team to be a whole pile of bad happenings which led to the departure of everything good he’d built up for himself. He had been getting along with his teammates and working towards a track scholarship, to take the burden off of his mom. His entire first year of high school was great, moving forward from his reclusive, volatile behaviors in middle school. For once in his life, he didn’t feel like he was good for nothing. Kamoshida ruined that.

The real shattering of every hope that Ryuji had came at the end of those weeks. He’d stood against Kamoshida at every step of the way, keeping him from beating up his teammates too much or pushing them too hard by both calling him on his shitty behavior and becoming the sole punching bag. Even so, that was fine. Ryuji could deal with it for the sake of the track team. The problem came after a few weeks of putting up with this.

“Hey, Sakamoto,” Nakaoka called him after practice, and he looked up from putting on his normal shoes, having already changed back from his PE clothes to his uniform. Nakaoka seemed concerned, “Kamoshida told me to send you up to the PE faculty office…”

“Dammit,” Ryuji muttered under his breath, then stood up straight and rolled his shoulder, “He probably just wants to tell me off again for getting in the way of his ‘training methods’. I can’t tell if he hates the track team, or just hates me…”

“I think it’s both,” Nakaoka frowned, “You know, maybe we’d be better off if we all just kept quiet. The volleyball team is excelling, after all, so maybe Kamoshida’s onto something with the aggressive training methods…”

“Bullshit,” Ryuji shook his head with a grimace, “I’m not just gonna shut up and let him beat you guys up! We’ll do better than the volleyball team, and we won’t all have injuries to show for it!”

“I’m just worried,” Nakaoka shook his head with a sigh, “If you keep acting up to Kamoshida, then he might decide that the track team isn’t worth coaching. I’d rather have a coach who’s an asshole than have no team at all, you know.”

“Well, I’m not gonna stop sticking my neck out,” Ryuji rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, “But I am gonna go up to the PE office. I’ll do what he says, I’m just not gonna let that shitty narcissist come in and step all over our team. See you later, Nakaoka,” He raised his hand and waved as he turned around and left the gym, making his way up to the office. He opened the door when he got there and stepped inside, slowly, “You asked to see me, Kamoshida?”

“That’s right, Sakamoto,” Kamoshida nodded, getting out of his desk chair and walking towards the door. He sidestepped Ryuji and shut the door behind him, then leaned against it to face him, “You’ve been a _real_ thorn in my side ever since I was kind enough to step in to coach your shitty team, you know that?”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” Ryuji grimaced, glaring daggers at Kamoshida but unable to make eye contact, “If you called me here to talk about that, then there’s nothing to discuss. I’m not about to stop just because you tell me off. I dunno if you’re like this to everyone, or if you just really hate the track team, but you’re a serious fool if you think I’ll let you hurt my friends or try to control us.”

“Talk?” Kamoshida questioned, a grin splitting the left half of his face as he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning forward towards Ryuji, “No, Sakamoto, we’re beyond the point of talking. It seems that we’ve come to the tragedy of an unstoppable force against an immovable object. I won’t change my coaching methods just because of some shitty kid, and that shitty kid won’t stop getting in my way because he thinks he’s a _hero_.”

“Well, if that’s how you think, that we have nothing to talk about… Then I guess that I have no reason to be here?” Ryuji questioned, reaching past Kamoshida for the door, only to find that the knob wouldn’t turn. He looked up at Kamoshida with a grimace, his heart starting to pound in his confused fear at the meaning of this.

“I already knew there was nothing to talk about, and I still called you here. The reason you came to this office was never to speak with me,” Kamoshida shook his head, leaning closer with his face right in front of Ryuji’s now. His breath stank.

“What the Hell, man?” Ryuji stepped backward, only to trip over some of the debris on the ground and fall onto the pile of PE equipment that was being stored in the corner. What were Kamoshida’s intentions, then? To kill him? “I-I don’t wanna die, asshole!”

“I couldn’t get away with killing you, dumbass,” Kamoshida hissed through his teeth, stepping forward to tower over Ryuji. Ryuji looked around for a way out, but found that between falling into this corner and Kamoshida’s broad frame, he was absolutely trapped. Kamoshida bent over towards Ryuji, once more getting too close for comfort, “I just need to show little shits like you who’s _boss_.”

“W-WHat?” Ryuji’s voice cracked in his terror as Kamoshida reached for him, then grabbed the back of his blazer and pulled him out of the corner by his clothing, tossing him onto the open floor in the office space so hard that he felt his nose crack, and while trying to lift his head watched as the bloodflow stained the linoleum below him. At this point he still had no idea what Kamoshida’s intentions were, but that confusion would be remedied within mere moments as he heard the sound of a zipper. He couldn’t even turn to try and assure himself that wasn’t what he thought it was when Kamoshida’s hand pressed down between his shoulderblades again, pushing his face into the small puddle of his own blood.

Beginning to panic, he tried to struggle, but all he could do was kick his legs wildly with his entire upper body being pinned to the floor as it was. Kamoshida moved his knee to pin down Ryuji’s ankles, and though he continued trying to move, this strength was simply too much for him to fight against. With his free hand, Kamoshida dug his fingers into the waistband of Ryuji’s pants and boxers at the same time, then dragged them down past his hips in one movement. Moments after this was done, he felt a weight on the small of his back.

“Look here, Sakamoto. This is gonna be unpleasant for me too, going in dry and all, but I think I can put up with that to give you what you deserve,” Kamoshida taunted, rubbing his cock against Ryuji’s back.

“Don’t do this, shit!” Ryuji shouted, “I’m gonna report the Hell out of you!”

“Yeah right, and who’s gonna think that’s anything but a bitter kid making shit up about a respected adult he doesn’t like?” Kamoshida moved, lining up with Ryuji’s ass, “Not to mention how little sense it makes for a prestigious olympic athlete to give two shits about a _shrimp_ like you…”

Shrimp.

That wording, it wormed its way into Ryuji’s brain and brought a whole other host of memories flooding back. He tried to yell again, but found his breath catching in his throat as he began hyperventilating. He whimpered, then forced out words which weren’t quite sitting to his current situation, with the flashback he was pseudo-experiencing, “Dad, don’t-”

Kamoshida thrusted into him, and he screamed.

“Dad?” Kamoshida questioned, leaning over him as he started to move already, keen on making this as uncomfortable for Ryuji as possible, “Oh, I see! That’s why your ass was so easy to get in. Your daddy used to do this same shit to you, yeah? Well, for two entirely different people to decide to do this,” He emphasized each movement, forsaking speed for intensity. The strength he had in the muscles all throughout his body was overwhelming to Ryuji’s much smaller form, and his face scraped against the floor with each movement, “Then it must be _your_ fault, you fucking shrimp-ass little shit! Learn some goddamn respect!”

“Let me go…” Ryuji whimpered against the tile, his cheek getting scraped up by the friction. Kamoshida evidently knew what he was doing, each movement calculated to cause him as much pain as possible. He didn’t even have an erection; that was how unpleasurable Kamoshida was managing to be.

“Not till you understand!” Kamoshida shouted at him, pressing against his shoulders with the one hand harder, and reaching out with the other one to grab onto his hair and pull sharply, “If you don’t fucking respect adults, then they’re just going to keep looking for a way to make you! Disobedient children are useless to this world. You’re good for nothing except a goddamn onahole!”

“I don’t want to be useful to adults like you,” was what Ryuji would have said if he could manage any words, but instead it just came out as groans of pain. Moments later, Kamoshida pulled out of him. He couldn’t feel it through the layers of fabric, but he was sure by the moan he heard that Kamoshida had just cum all over his back. The ‘teacher’s next words confirmed this.

“Would you look at that, I seem to have made a mess of your uniform,” He taunted as he stood up and tucked his dick away, as Ryuji could tell by the repeated sound of a zipper, “But I guess if you managed to get your father on your ass too, then you already know how to get stains like this out. Or maybe your mom does. Gonna run home and squeal to your mother, like it’ll do any good?”

“No, sir…” Ryuji’s voice was devoid of feeling, and his eyes were glassy. At the moment, he was in a trancelike form of shock, all the light gone from his expression at a time like this. Without another word, Kamoshida unlocked the door of the faculty office and sat back down in his desk chair. It took Ryuji another several minutes till he could stand up, at which point he pulled off his blazer, folded it with the stains on the inside, and carried it out of the room, stumbling.

Sadayo Kawakami saw him in the hallway that afternoon, and would always wonder if she could have helped, had she not been worried about sticking her neck into the lives of ‘problem students’.

The next day, Ryuji’s feelings would manifest through the void in the form of anger when Kamoshida told the rest of the time about the problems with his father. He’d have his leg broken, and the track team would be disbanded.

A few weeks later, he would find himself faced with the shadow of Kamoshida, who told him that the disbanding of the track team was entirely his fault. Just like, somehow, being victimized by shitty adults twice over was his own fault; and he would refute that claim, and awaken to a power which would finally let him make a difference.

Days later, Shiho Suzui would attempt to kill herself because of Kamoshida, and Ryuji would wonder if that could have been him.


End file.
